


Poison

by Elysionia



Series: House of Cards drabbles [6]
Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Adultery, Cheating, F/M, Frank is only mentioned, Hurt, One Shot, but still this is Frank x Claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysionia/pseuds/Elysionia
Summary: The twisted part of him envies Claire. Even after the years they have played this game together, he hasn’t learned to leave her the way she leaves him. Like he’s a cozy shirt she strips right off her body the moment she walks out of his studio’s door. Leaving him behind on the floor like nothing has ever happened between them.To him, it’s like quitting smoking. He can’t help but to desire the poison.
Relationships: Adam Galloway/Claire Underwood, Claire Underwood/Francis Underwood
Series: House of Cards drabbles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536523
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Poison

They haven’t met each other since the photograph scandal of 2013. Bridges burned into ashes with their heated conversation in Frank’s study. He remembers the _ I hate you  _ burn its way through his throat as the hurt left his lips lashing at her. He can still taste the bitterness on his tongue and feel the freezing cold of her eyes that cut through his soul. Leaving him to bleed in secret for months. 

He’s seen her, yes. How could he not have looked at her pictures on the glossy pages of the magazines, newspapers and tabloids. His heart missed a beat the first time he heard her melodic voice coming from the speakers of his television, making him stain his pristine shirt in wine while rushing to the tv to turn it off. His heart pounding against his ribs. 

But there she stands in flesh, after all this time. More beautiful than any mirage his mind could conduct. He could recognize her anywhere. The graceful lines of her body that curve under the deep blue of her dress make her stand out from the crowd. The poise she carries herself with shows everyone her old money and high upbringing.

He wonders if she’s still interested in the environmental issues after abandoning C.W.I or was that also a veil she put up to confound soft hearted fools like him.

Finally the crowd disbands and the First Lady is left alone. Stuffing his twitching hands into the pocket of his light washed jeans he creeps closer to her with hurried steps. Pounding of his heart intensifying with every crossed feet. Her attention is captured by a sculpture of divinity which can’t even compete with the ethereal beauty she radiates. Her gorgeous shell that carefully hides the monster underneath. 

Completely unaware of his arrival, she flinches at the timbre of his voice as he catches her off guard. 

‘’Tell me, how did you manage to escape the walls of Metropolitan Museum of Art?’’ 

Her head turns steadily to face him with the grace of a ballerina. Cold blue of her eyes meet his smirking face and her lips fall open in surprise. Adam can see the flash of memories rush past her irises. 

The secret service agents move closer to them through the crowd ready to protect the First Lady from the foreign intruder. With a slight raise of her jaw she dismisses the security swallowing deeply. Claire draws in a short breath through her mouth before fixing her composure, pushing her too long bangs nervously back and stretching a tight wide smile across her face.

‘’Adam’’

His name sounds like a melody that makes his heart race like a wild horse and gallop somewhere far away from every rational thought he had a moment ago. But her smile doesn’t match with her soft voice; it’s devious like she is hyper aware of her surroundings, aware of always being under too many watchful eyes. 

Claire grasps her fingers together before her protectively. Before they used to wrap around his shoulders is a heartfelt hug, now clasped in front of her to create distance between them. The spotlight catches on her wedding band’s diamonds that shine through the cracks of her fingers reminding him of Frank. 

‘’I didn’t think we’d ever meet again.’’ Her voice is cold like a snow storm striking against his face in January when she finally whispers under the loud chattering of the people. Her cheek is quickly turned to him dismissively as if she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes for longer than three seconds.

Adam’s sanguine mood turns sour with her tone. He wants to make things right between them. He huffs his breath glancing around them to make sure that no one is paying attention to the pair before requesting: ‘’I’m sorry about what happened. I think we need to talk like two adults. Please, come to my studio tomorrow at 6 pm. We’ll stay away from the prying eyes. I’ll cook something for us.’’ 

Desperation swells in her eyes as her perfectly manicured nails sink into the back of her hand. She hesitates for a moment, trying to find any adequate reason not to be able to meet with him. She has many, yet none of them seem important when the blue of his eyes keep pulling at her ocean heart. It would be stupid and reckless. She can’t defend herself against the press if they see her privately with Adam. Her glances back to the secret service agents in hesitation before their eyes meet again. She bargains with a hushed voice: ‘’Only for two hours. I have to fly back to D.C after.’’ 

Adam can’t contain the excitement he feels, joy spilling over in flushed cheeks and the twinkling in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting.” His hand brushes hot against her shoulder before he vanishes back into the sea of people as quickly as he had appeared.

  
  


.:.:.

  
  


‘’How’s business?’’ Claire inquires while finishing the rest of her risotto winking her eye playfully at Adam, who looks at her with a dumb smitten smile that belongs to a much younger school boy. His cheek squished against his hand as he continues to admire her.

‘’Actually after the whole media catastrophe business has been running rather smoothly. I think I got more media attention in that week than in the past 10 years before that. Would probably done that sooner if I knew.’’ 

She laughs openly, wholeheartedly at his comment, stripping away the last tinge of anger he feels towards her. Her laugh makes him snort and crack up into a full blown laughter. One part of himself hates this, how easily she can disarm him and make him forget everything bad that has happened because of her. Her laugh colours their grave past anew. 

Why has God made this hateful woman so alluring. 

He knocks back the rest of his wine glass before disappearing into the kitchen cupboards to open a new bottle for them, topping his glass up.

“You wouldn’t believe how many are interested in nude pictures of you.” He calls out in a mixture of scoff and a laugh while shaking his head behind the open door. Men are despicable. 

“I can guess a few.” Her nose scrunches up with disgust. 

He closes the door with a thud, carrying the fresh bottle to the table. ‘’When my fame and skills wither down, I think I’ll sell the rest of the pictures of you. Maybe print them into memorial mugs.’’

Their laughter simmers down into awkward silence. 

‘’You destroyed those pictures like I told you.’’ It’s not a question. She and Francis were very clear on that day in their townhouse. 

‘’I did.’’ He lies through a smile while filling up her glass. Maybe he can still play the game with her.

Claire’s eyes squint as she stares right through his soul looking for any sign of a lie. He smirks at her smugly partaking in the staring competition before taking a deep gulp of his wine. 

She leaves the dining table with the now full wine glass in her hand, opting towards the huge windows. The lights of New York shine like little stars, stretching on as far as her eyes carry. For a while she leans against the dresser and listens to the sirens echoing from the far away streets. Their noise resembling the warning bells ringing in her ears. Warmth from the wine is slowly rising up, making her skin flush with colour. She shouldn’t drink any more.

‘’Where’s Inez?’’ She asks the question that has hovered over them the whole evening as the sirens fade and the silence lands between them. Her faux smile drops with the question while her memories turn to him telling about his new girlfriend. How they are deeply and hopelessly in love. They were going to get married. How he loves Inez more than he has ever loved her. 

There was a time when she used to care about with whom his affections laid. A time when she dreamed about escaping D.C and finding herself from the clear blue shores of Côte d’Azur with his hand in hers. Now even her smallest escapes to New York seems like a distant dream of a time that never actually were. 

Adam runs his hand through his tousled hair scratching the nape of his neck before boyishly answering: ‘’Inez is in Bogotá visiting her father.’’ 

‘’I see.’’ She hums under her breath before knocking back the rest of her wine as she scrutinizes the newest prints he has taken. 

He confirms her suspicions. Girlfriends out of town and he’s lonely. How predictable.

_ ‘’All you have ever done is cause me pain.’ _ ’ She remembers his words like it was yesterday. Despite all the horrible things she has done to Adam here she is again, in his apartment invited in by his own selfish desires to have her. 

“What does she think about this?” Whatever this is that still runs deep between them. 

“She doesn’t know we’re involved.” He scowls. There has never been an us with them. She had already married Frank when they met for the first time in the Whitney Biennial 1989.

”Does he know you are here?” He serves her back. Frank Underwood is like bad news he doesn’t want to bring up but he can’t help himself from asking about. He tries to gloat but fails miserably.

“He does. It’s ok. We talked on the phone.” She faintly smiles thinking about how much Francis despises Adam. Still she keeps lying to herself that her relationship with Adam has nothing to do with her and Francis.

Adam Galloway watches her closely from across the room while she rummages through his prints. He is still intoxicated by her beauty that has been captured on to his films forever. Her looks were the first thing that drew him to her in that art gallery years ago. Even now seeing her in the harsh light of reality, Claire is the embodiment of pure seduction in her little black dress with an open back that scoops far too low for a woman of her stature. 

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself but no one has truly been able to fill the deep gap she ripped into his heart. For years he dreamed of catching Claire for himself. Every contact between them added kindling into his fiery crush for her that was slowly warping into mad love. Inez turned his world around, saving him from the dark pit he had fallen into. Inez made him see the World more clearly than ever before. Yet he kept the back door open, waiting for the day when Claire would fly back into his arms. 

Once the bridges burned between them, he finally felt free. Like a weight had been lifted from his chest and his heart was atlast free to love Inez unconditionally. His perfect happiness lasted only for a couple of months before the lightness in his soul started to fade with the dull routines. It creeps up to him in the dark of the night while he lays besides Inez in their bed. The wounds in his heart have healed but the scars remain and they keep aching and itching, making his thoughts turn back to Claire time after time. 

The twisted part of him envies Claire. Even after the years they have played this game together, he hasn’t learned to leave her the way she leaves him. Like he’s a cozy shirt she strips right off her body the moment she walks out of his studio’s door. Leaving him behind on the floor like nothing has ever happened between them. 

To him, it’s like quitting smoking. He can’t help but to desire the poison.

His empty glass is left alone on the table as he moves towards her in a trance. Hands curve around her waist pulling her tight against his pounding chest, and when she doesn’t escape his touch, he presses his nose into the nape of her neck. Her scent is almost nostalgic, reminding him of the fall nights in his atelier. The voice in his head keeps screaming that this moment is nothing compared to what he and Inez have. Gentle brush of her fingers against his creates waves that ultimately drown his voice of reason.

His wine loosened voice comes out hoarse and desperate against her neck:

‘’I missed you. You don’t know how many nights I’ve tossed and turned thinking about you, thinking about what’s right, what’s wrong. My fingers hovering over the phone itching to call to you, to finally hear your voice again. I just - - God. You drive me insane.’’

Her rose coloured lips are venomous as they meet for the first time in years. 

Adam’s hands brush past her cheeks sinking into her short hair pulling her deeper into the kiss. Her lips open in surprise by the fierceness of his grip in her hair. She moves calmly against the heat of his lips, palms cold against his heart. Adam’s hands leave her tousled hair falling down to stroke her back. Eager to feel the softness of her skin. Shivers run through her body from his light touches. He gropes her toned ass making Claire moan against his lips, before sliding his hands up tracing her spine. Finally locating the small zipper from the side of her dress. Slowly he inches the black fabric open, baring her to his eyes. 

Blue of his eyes is almost cyan as their eyes lock for a second in a clash of emotions. In silence her eyes ask if he’s sure about this. He doesn’t want to question this feeling that’s daring to drown him. Closing his eyes he dives against her. Passion in his kisses is almost unbearable as they shed the rest of their remaining clothes. 

Pulling away from him she pants against his lips. Before she gets to bark orders at him, Adam’s head is fast to duck back against her neck away from her piercing eyes. He recognizes something feral running deep inside of him every time he kisses Claire. Maybe it’s the pride of an alpha male to get to have her over someone as influential as Frank. To know that for once she chose him. Adam’s lips climb so close to her ear, she barely makes out the whispered words. Hushed like he’s afraid of the empty walls hearing his forbidden desire for her. 

“I want you.”

Wet kisses travel down her neck, across her chest and over her stomach as her core clenches in anticipation. Knees giving out under him, his rapid breathing brushes hot against her skin while his hands tenderly map out her long legs. Again he is on his knees before her, ready to give her the world. 

But it’s not enough for her anymore.

Sex with Adam has always been amazing. It’s one of the reasons she’s kept him around. She wants this, sometimes even needs his soft touches on her skin. It’s the egoistic side of her that wants to hold on to him. She imagines his touch could free her, mend her damned soul and bring her closer to heaven, but it’s her that pulls him straight down to the abyss. 

He helps her step out of her black heels, putting the shoes aside. Balls of her feet burn from standing in her stilettos for too long when they finally meet the plush carpet. His fingers are stuck to her hips brushing at the slick fabric of her panties as he looks up to her. She’s gorgeous from every angle. Perfectly rounded nails drive through his hair to claw at his scalp to get him to move.

Silky fabric is fast to fall around her ankles. Adam throws the piece of soiled fabric away next to the pile of their clothes. Claire shuts her eyes as his breath brushes against her thigh. His eager mouth is hot and hungry against her thrumming flesh. Her fingers buried tightly into his hair act as reins guiding him with every move. While he worships her, Adam’s heart swells with the need to have her to himself. It’s childish to try and play the prince from the fairytales, and save the damsel before she’s consumed by the big bad wolf. Deep inside he senses that she is the one he should be afraid of. 

Claire has always baited him. Dangling a scrap of her sensitive side in front of him to get him hooked. And when he does take the bait, she’s fast to push him away as gently as she’s tugged him in. As cruel as she can be, some days he desires the hurt she gives him. 

Needy rock of her hips against his mouth gets him to leave her hips and push his fingers into her clenching core. With heavy pants she pulses around his fingers. Claire’s gone as soon as his lips purse around her throbbing clit. She comes for him with heavenly soft moans. 

Nails tug painfully against his scalp in a que to stop as she tries to pull him away from her throbbing core. Adam rises with a crack from his knees flashing Claire a sorry smile. With a snort Claire pushes him down on the bedding. Pulling his boxers down he surrenders and falls down on the dark silk. Claire crawls on all fours over him like the vixen she is. Smirking at him she traces her nails over his chest straddling him. Their lips meet once more before she slides him into her wet heat.

Biting her lip to suppress the moan daring to escape her throat, Claire rides him with shallow strokes. Palming her thighs Adam pulls her deep against his hips grinding against her. He can see the flashes of emotion in her irises. The facade makes it almost impossible to read her as a whole. But when she comes to his arms, she’s only a half. 

The loft is filled with their moans and the wet slaps of skin against skin. The pleasure feels mind numbingly good as Adam keeps meeting Claire’s hips with fervor. Her core coiling tighter around his cock with every rock. But when she closes her eyes, her thoughts keep turning back to Francis. On how he will react to her little escapade. Will he dismiss it like it means nothing to him. Or will he fuck her senseless in the Oval Office, jealous in having to share her with someone despicable like Adam. 

Her body is taken over by the brusque wave of her orgasm as comes from thinking about the fiery burn in Francis’ eyes he’ll never admit to her. 

Claire no longer questions if she made the right decision all those years ago. Adam is tranquillity of a dream, stagnant and too good to be true. Francis is grinding teeth of progression that keeps pulling her forwards throughout the licking flames. 

Adam’s body trembles under her from the throes of passion. Tips of his fingers dig into the soft skin of her thighs as his gasps fill the silence. Claire has stilled over him, her head turned to the darkness. Her eyes are stuck to  _ Claire _ , the girl she shot at the park all those years ago. Who Adam printed out and named Claire. She still disagrees. In silence she is called  _ Aware _ , named after her sharp eyes that stared right through her facade. The morning after Peter Russo’s death, she took the piece of her eye and folded sharp edges until the too piercing blue turned into a beautiful delicate crane. 

The origami sits on top of Adam’s shelf still spreading its wings, ready to fly to the promised paradise. She is still far away from reaching her reason. There are 993 cranes still to be folded and Francis is waiting for her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have worked on this since last November and just decided to scrape it together. Hope you can enjoy it. 
> 
> About the end: there is an ancient Japanese legend that promises that anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods.


End file.
